


Even to Your Darkest Hour

by samyazaz



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Guardian Angels, M/M, Resurrection, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-28 00:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samyazaz/pseuds/samyazaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras has always lived with a second voice inside his head, one that's named itself R, and claims to be Enjolras's guardian angel, and has been a lifelong source of conflict and companionship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even to Your Darkest Hour

Enjolras has always lived with a second voice inside his head, one that's named itself R, and claims to be Enjolras's guardian angel, and has been a lifelong source of conflict and companionship. Enjolras has spoken with Joly a number of times about the symptoms, but they don't seem to extend farther than the voice whispering in his ear, and Joly has declared it unlikely to be dementia. Enjolras does his best to ignore R, when he's around others, and can't seem to help arguing with him night and day, otherwise.

Then one day, when he's a young man studying at the university in Paris, a man with wine on his breath and R's voice stumbles into him, slings his arm around Enjolras's shoulders, and ignores his frosty glare as he introduces himself as Grantaire. "R for short," he says with a wink, and there's a lifetime of familiarity in that glance.

#

It's a week before R's able to corner him while they're alone. He plants his hands on Enjolras's table and waits, watching him expectantly.

"You are not my guardian angel," Enjolras says flatly when R doesn't seem inclined to go anywhere.

"Oh, aren't I? Good to know. That's a weight off my mind." He hooks a chair with his foot, drags it over and drops down into it, then rattles off a list of conversations they've only had in Enjolras's head, when Enjolras was alone. There's no way even one of the Amis could know about it, much less a relative stranger.

"You're not," he says again. "In front of the others, you're not."

R nods and settles back in the chair, just like that. Enjolras waits, but he doesn't say anything else, so Enjolras just packs up his papers and wishes him a good night.

#

_You're mad,_ R snarls in his head the night after he's given one of his best speeches before the Amis. _You're going to get everyone killed, and yourself along with them._

Enjolras tells him, defiant, that he'd happily sacrifice his life in exchange for the people's freedom, and R cuts him off with a snarl so furious that Enjolras flinches back, though there's no escaping the sound in his head.

_You_ are _mad,_ Grantaire snaps, and speaks over him when Enjolras attempts to reply. _They're children, they're all just children, you're sending them to their graves._

Enjolras tries again to respond, but this time he gets nothing in response, just the silence of his own thoughts.

#

R has no compunction about telling him in front of the Amis everything he thinks is wrong with Enjolras's plans, but despite that, he sticks around. Enjolras snarls at him, and snaps at him, and they argue until they're both shaking with fury, but R always shows up again the next time, raising his brows as though in challenge when he catches Enjolras frowning at him.

Despite his cynicism, he asks to participate at nearly every opportunity. The fourth time he manages to completely fail to do what he's asked, it occurs to Enjolras to wonder if maybe it's sabotage.

#

_What do you think happens to a guardian angel who fails his duty?_ Grantaire asks him one day, when they've worn out their ire at each other and are both exhausted. Enjolras is in bed, an arm thrown over his eyes, praying for night so maybe he can sleep.

Enjolras pulls his arm down and frowns at the ceiling. _A stern lecture? I don't know. Tell me. You obviously want to._

_Purgatory._

Enjolras pushes upright onto his elbows. _You can't put that on me. You can't make me responsible for your fate._

Even in Enjolras's head, Grantaire's laughter is bitter and strained. _You've taken responsibility for all of France, but_ this _you balk at?_

_You can't expect me to sacrifice the people's freedom for your sake._

_No._ Grantaire sounds weary, as run-down as Enjolras has ever heard him. _You're right, I don't. That's not you. Get some rest, Apollo._ And that's the last Enjolras hears from him that night.

#

After a skirmish with the National Guard in which Enjolras narrowly avoids getting run through with a bayonet, they all retreat back to the Musain to nurse their wounds and regroup. R is a silent, seething presence as they make their way back, his gaze flitting from one face to the next as though to reassure himself that everyone made it through mostly unscathed. But when they reach the Musain, R grabs Enjolras by the arm and holds him back until all the others have gone inside without him, and then he shoves Enjolras back against the wall hard enough to bruise.

"You selfish fucking bastard," he snarls, and crashes his mouth against Enjolras's with enough force to steal his breath.

When he pulls back, still glowering, Enjolras lifts a hand to his mouth and just stares at him. "I'm not going to watch people suffer and do nothing just because you want me to," he says. "Not even for you, R."

"No." R spits the word out like it's venom. "You never do." And he storms past Enjolras into the Musain, and while Enjolras spends the evening seeing to his men, R sits in the back glowering at them all and drinking grimly.

#

When the barricades go up, R stands back and watches them all with a face gone pale as ash. "You're all going to die," he says with a voice that trembles. Enjolras isn't sure whether it's from anger or fear or something else. "You know that, don't you? I can't stay here and watch you all throw your lives away."

He turns and walks away. Enjolras stares after him for a long moment, until the street curves and takes him out of sight. He's never seen R like that, never before heard his voice shake like that. He meant it, when he said that he wouldn't let R's cynicism keep him from the fight for freedom, but he's alarmed enough by R's demeanor that after a few moments, he calls out to him quietly, _R?_

R doesn't answer. Enjolras tries again a few times, as he and the rest of the Amis go about inventorying their ammunition and making other preparations, but he receives no reply. Wherever R has gone, he seems determined this time to leave Enjolras and the others to their fates.

#

The barricades have fallen. The Amis are dead, or dying.

Enjolras stands with his back in the corner, a quiet panic screaming through the back of his mind. "Shoot me," he snarls at the guardsmen arrayed before him, guns at the ready, because it's inevitable now, but he won't give them the satisfaction of going out cowed, or frightened. That's not who he is. _"Shoot me."_

A moment of silence falls as the guardsmen shift their stances and lift their guns. And in the midst of that silence, there's a commotion at the back, a silent stir of activity as the guardsmen push apart and someone comes staggering forward. _R_ comes staggering forward, and stands there staring at Enjolras with heartbreak in his eyes.

Enjolras drops his head back against the wall behind him and fights against a wild laugh. _I thought you'd gone for good._

_Never._ R steps forward. _I couldn't, even if I wanted to._

_You certainly sounded like you wanted to._

R shakes his head slowly. _Do you have any idea how many times I've watched you throw your life away? Too many to count. You die and are reborn, and I along with you. And you're_ always the same _. You always get yourself killed for one cause or another._ He closes the space between them until they're close enough to touch, if one of them had just reached out.

_Purgatory,_ Enjolras says quietly, understanding at last. _You don't have to stay here for this. You don't have to be here._

_Perhaps. I'm going to, all the same. I never get enough time with you as it is._ R holds a hand out, palm up, waiting. There's something uncertain and fragile in his gaze. _If you'll permit it?_

Enjolras clasps his hand and pulls him in to stand at his side. _I'm sorry,_ he says, as the guardsmen take aim at them both.

R tips his head back and laughs. _No, you're not. Not really. You'd have done this anyway. You always do._ His fingers tighten around Enjolras's hand.

Enjolras doesn't know what to say to that. There isn't time. R lifts his chin and calls out to the guardsmen, "Finish both of us at one blow."

_Try._ Try _, Apollo,_ he says as a dozen guns level at them. _Try not to forget me, this time._

_I promise._ Enjolras clasps R's hand tight in his. _I'll try._

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Even To Your Darkest Hour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047651) by [RsCreighton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton)




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